


Of Wires and Wanting

by orphan_account



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blow Jobs, Ear Piercings, Fanfic of Fanfic, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Mithril, Pain, hot!Gimli
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 11:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6564757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A deviation based on events from a chapter of Nothing Gold Can Stay by TAFKAB. Gimli/Legolas slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wires and Wanting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TAFKAB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Nothing Gold Can Stay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5791561) by [TAFKAB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/pseuds/TAFKAB). 



> **Author's Note:** Another little fanfic of fanfic, for TAFKAB's Nothing Gold Can Stay.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Middle Earth or anything created by Tolkien. I do not own TAFKAB's plot. I make no money from this.

 

**Of Wires and Wanting**

Chapter One

_Legolas sat obediently, pulling aside his hair, and waited as the dwarf soaked a cloth, then slowly wiped his ear, running the rough wet fabric along the rim, dipping inside with care to cleanse the path of the wire, even where the ear curled over. The alcohol cooled swiftly when he had passed. Legolas made himself breathe evenly, but it was difficult. He knew he blushed, his face burning._

“Your ears are very senstive,” Gimli noted, discerning.

“Yes.” Legolas breathed the reply, wondering when Gimli's touch would return there, feeling a sharp anticipation that made his muscles feel weak.

“Are you sure you want this?” Gimli asked, and Legolas moved his eyes but did not turn his head. He did not want to put his ear out of Gimli's reach.

“Please,” he said, though he was not sure what he pleaded for. Gimli stretched out a finger, and Legolas held his breath, closing his eyes because the prospect of feeling that touch again was almost too much to bear. He trembled.

When he felt that finger travel in a slow, leisurely line up the rim of his ear, Legolas moaned helplessly, quivering as Gimli laughed under his breath.

“Do not laugh at me,” he begged, even though the sound of Gimli's amusement seemed to make him feel the touch even more. His heart was beating heavy, and yet he felt drained of blood, his lower body hot with it as if it could not rise to attend to his mind and ease his confusion.

“Let us try one,” Gimli murmured, his voice impossibly low and rich, as if the earth had spoken. “I do not know what effect it will have on you, but I freely admit I am curious to find out.”

Legolas opened his eyes again, and Gimli was looking down at his lower body. Legolas followed the line of his sight, and saw his genitals were swollen beneath his clothing. He swallowed silently and nodded once in acquiescence.

Gimli took hold of his ear gently, and Legolas jumped as if shocked by steel. “Be still,” Gimli warned. “It is very important that you do not move.” Legolas breathed an affirmation, to show he understood, and then he felt the cool of the mithril point pressed sharply against the tender flesh, and he jumped again.

“Should I restrain you?” Gimli asked, slightly astonished.

“I think you must,” Legolas replied, though all he could think about was his hardness, and how much it yearned. It yearned for Gimli's touch in a way his ear didn't. He needed it so!

“Will you touch me?” he blurted suddenly, looking around, disturbing the hold Gimli had on his ear. Gimli gave him a slow measuring look, up and down that made him blush.

“If I did, elf, I think this would become a torture for you instead of a pleasure. I will hold you down if you cannot stay still of your own accord. Lie down on the bed there.” He motioned with his head, and Legolas got up to obey, stretching himself out on the surface of the bed with a soft sigh, on his front, feeling his hardness excited by the mere feel of the firm mattress beneath him.

He stopped moving when Gimli settled on him, heavy and somehow exciting. Legolas fell still in awe at the feeling as Gimli's limbs wrapped around him. Legolas was not ignorant, and recognised the hold from his training. It was a wrestling hold, and yet when he tried to move, he found he could not. Not even so much as an inch. Gimli's strength far exceeded his own, even though they were not matched for height.

“Gimli,” Legolas moaned, feeling all of these new things he did not have a name for. But he wanted more. Yet the dwarf just leaned a forearm against the side of his head, pressing his head down onto the bed.

“Now you will take it Legolas, without distracting me.”

Just the sound of that made Legolas whimper, and then he felt the tip of the piercing pressed to his ear again, further, deeper, until it pierced him there. His breath began to feel short, and he panted as the pain mixed with the pleasure, completely lost in it. He was not weeping, but his swollen member was. Legolas could feel it, and he gave a long low moan.

“Very good, Legolas,” said Gimli, his voice so deep Legolas felt it more than heard it.

“I submit,” he said, expecting the words from wrestling practice would make Gimli set him free, but they did not.

“We shall see about that,” replied the dwarf, curling the wire through the piercing he had made, and Legolas drew in a deep breath until his lungs felt they would burst.

“Next one,” Gimli warned, pressing the sharp tip into his sensitive skin, this time higher up, and Legolas' muscles spasmed in an attempt to throw Gimli off.

“You cannot!” he gasped, even though as he said it, Gimli forced the mithril through. “I need to move, Gimli, please!”

“I have to finish, Legolas, and you know that,” Gimli said softly, letting go of the piercing for a moment to run a hand down his side. His palm was heavy and warm. Legolas struggles ceased and he relaxed, tame, his breathing the only tell of his distress.

“But I ache,” Legolas moaned, completely helpless. “This is how you felt, when the wraith touched us. How does one bear it?” Gimli continued to run that hand over him, but that began to cloud his mind too. “I want you to do it, but I don't want you to do it! I am lost!”

“Hmm,” Gimli rumbled. “Does it pleasure you, knowing you are at my mercy?”

Hearing it put so eloquently made Legolas whimper again. “Yes,” he whispered. “What is happening to me? Will I become yours, as you were mine in that nightmare? I should not want that, but I do.”

“It is all right, Legolas. I would never harm you. Trust in that. Hold onto that.” Gimli paused, and Legolas felt his hesitation, as if he would say something else, but the moment passed and his inner conflict did not. Gimli moved the piercing again, and Legolas gave him a thin cry of new sexual awareness that spread through his veins like liquid fire.

“Again, Legolas,” he said, with all the weight of that vision behind his words, and Legolas felt he must melt, or go insane, or else shatter like glass in Gimli's grip and become eternally broken. Gimli's plaything.

Legolas felt the next piercing as if it was being driven through his soul. This one introduced a formed bend in the wire that stretched his ear, the pain becoming hot and white in his mind. He became incoherent, and Gimli worked more quickly, another one leading to the tip of his ear, with the bend in the wire freed so there were two more leading down the opposite side.

There were tears on his face, from helplessness, sexual torment and pain. His ears really were sensitive, and what Gimli couldn't know – what Legolas didn't know – was that each of the piercings hurt him far more than they would have hurt a dwarf, or even a human. And yet his love for Gimli seemed to have grown.

“Gimli...” he moaned, over and over again, no longer understanding anything except that he wanted. So desperately. Gimli didn't let him up, but kept him still while the hand that had tormented him loosened the clothing that covered his lower body and wrapped around the hardness there. Legolas almost screamed.

“Elf, hush, or you will bring guards upon us,” Gimli soothed, his fingers tightening in a way that was so pleasurable Legolas thought he would never escape from this moment. Forever, like this, held down while Gimli did anything, everything he wanted. Every cursed thing in the vision came back to him, everything his shadow self had done. And he remembered keeping Gimli for days upon days, chained to the bed, aching and desperate. Remembered enjoying it.

“Will you avenge yourself on me now?” he asked, Gimli's hand unmoving on him, while he could not do much more than blink and wiggle his toes and fingers. Legolas breathed in, and Gimli's scent surrounded him.

“No, Legolas. It was not you who did those things. I want something different. I want you to come in my hand, so you'll relax.” So saying his moved his hand, slowly, up and down, building up to something Legolas had never felt before. It was like teetering, Legolas thought, his own moaning sounded strange to him, painful, though the pain was far outweighed by pleasure.

His body was trying to move, instinctively, back and forth into Gimli's grip, but all he managed was a jittery, halting stutter of his hips while Gimli did all the work, keeping it slow and measured instead of racing, as Legolas wanted.

When the edge finally came, Legolas felt as if he plunged over it, something in him drawing back with Gimli's hand, then rushing forward, sweeping away everything in its path. Again, and again that sensation, slowly receding. Less powerful until there was nothing left, Gimli's hand fallen still on him, almost too warm.

At last Gimli set him free, moving his hand and his weight, the hold that had kept him so immobile. But Legolas no longer wanted to move. He groaned into the pillows by the side of his face.

“Legolas? Are you all right?” Gimli questioned after some moments of quiet.

“I never knew it was like that,” Legolas said, still feeling his blood fizzing pleasantly. “I mean I never experienced it.”

Yet Gimli, it seemed, misunderstood him, and merely slapped a palm on his thigh that sounded sharp even through his leggings. “Well, that is gratifying,” he said, clearly pleased. “I'll let you have some more when you've recovered and I add the second wire.”

Legolas' heart jumped. “S-second wire?” he echoed, gulping. So it was not done, even now? Legolas moaned from his place on the bed. “How will I bear it?”

“I will find something to tie you up with,” said Gimli, some kind of amusement in his voice. “That will be different.”

“Ah, so you do mean to avenge yourself then!” said Legolas, smiling secretly, even though he thrilled to the thought of Gimli tying him up in ropes or silk. It made his heart beat faster, and it would not be like the vision. Not if Gimli did that to him again afterwards. Legolas felt like he wanted to do that again, as soon as it could be done.

“Oh, no,” Gimli said. “We are not following that path. The next time you come, you're going to let me taste you.”

“Taste?” Legolas suddenly understood, and he drew in a deep breath, sitting up on the bed. He could not look away from the dwarf's mouth. “And how long do you think it might be before we start again?” he asked, having no idea what his body was capable of, or what rest he might need. He only knew that Gimli excited him beyond anything he had ever thought possible. Even after the wraith's vision. He hadn't felt desire like this in it.

“How fast do elves recover?” Gimli wondered out loud, leaning in close so that Legolas laughed and backed away. But then the dwarf blew onto his newly pierced ear, and he sighed and swayed as if hypnotised.

“Oh,” said Legolas, his voice subdued, his hands reaching out to grip one of the dwarf's muscled thighs. “That feels so strange.”

“Good strange, or bad strange?” asked Gimli, doing it again, and laughing when Legolas closed his eyes and sighed. “I like this responsiveness in you, elf,” he remarked, a hand trailing down over him, through the seed of earlier, fingers dawdling there.

“Good, I think,” said Legolas, swallowing and then beginning to breathe a little faster. “It makes me think of you. Because you put it there. Because you put it in me.”

Gimli released a pent up breath, and Legolas looked at him, distracted from the strange feeling in his stomach as the dwarf almost touched him again, fingertips still dancing somewhere just below his navel. “I am starting to think you have no idea how you sound,” he said. “Do you know the words you speak? Do you know what you're really saying?”

Legolas shook his head, almost expecting a lesson, eyes wide. “What am I saying?” he asked, trying to think while Gimli stared at him, so intense. He still gripped Gimli's thigh in his hands, and he looked down now, wondering how it would feel to touch him in the same way.

He felt his teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he was about to move his hands when Gimli sighed. Legolas looked up into his eyes quickly.

“You are an innocent, aren't you?” Gimli asked, studying his face. “How did I not see it?” he asked, this time the words aimed at himself.

Legolas blushed, wondering if it was good or bad to be an innocent, as Gimli put it. Did he wish for a partner with more experience in these things, who would know how to give and receive pleasure without being instructed? The thought made him feel sad. Didn't Gimli deserve better than the fumbling touches of someone who had never played this way?

“I have never felt these things before,” Legolas confessed. “I am sorry. But I will learn,” he reassured Gimli quickly, feeling that his heart and soul must show in his eyes. “I will please you,” he vowed, “if you show me how.”

Gimli only groaned, and Legolas let his head fall, certain the dwarf was displeased. “Legolas, you really have no idea. I love your innocence.”

“You do?” Legolas asked, his heart lifting in happiness as he looked up again. Gimli smiled, and Legolas could not help wrapping his arms around the dwarf, hugging him close until Gimli laughed and disentangled himself.

“Aye,” he said, his voice warm with affection. “Do not be troubled. It is such a gift. How can I match it?”

Legolas felt treasured by his words. It was a gift? Then it was a gift he gladly gave. He fell onto his back on the bed and stretched out his arms and legs.

“I think you could tie me up as you promised,” Legolas suggested, feeling his blood burn at the idea of being helpless under the dwarf's hand again. “And affix the rest of the wire.” He shivered at the idea of the pain and pleasure that would produce in him. He blushed, feeling suddenly shy, peeking at Gimli from under his eyelashes. “Then,” he said, licking his lips, “you will taste me?”

“And I will!” Gimli said with a booming laugh, watching him all the while. Legolas became breathless when the dwarf moved to loom over his prostrate form, wishing nothing but to surrender. “Eager aren't you, elf?” he said as he touched Legolas there again, and to his surprise, Legolas could feel that he was big and hard again in Gimli's hand. He moaned wantonly. “Very eager indeed.”

“Is that bad?” Legolas asked, uncertain.

“No. It is surprising. And very, very pleasing.” Thus reassured, Legolas darted forward and caught Gimli's lips in a kiss. He had meant it to be chaste, but then Gimli's lips seemed to tease his mouth open and his tongue invaded Legolas' mouth, hot and teasing, making him give muffled sounds of surprised pleasure. He sucked on Gimli's tongue for a moment, and when he let go, the dwarf made a muffled noise of his own into the kiss.

“Get undressed, Legolas,” Gimli said, drawing back, and Legolas moved to obey happily, feeling somewhat excited. Gimli just watched him, and Legolas undid the buttons on his tunic, pulling it free of his arms before letting it drift onto the bed.

“Will you get undressed as well?” Legolas asked politely as Gimli quite obviously ogled his bare chest. He found he wanted the chance to look at the dwarf too. Without taking his eyes away, Gimli began to remove his own clothing as Legolas gracefully took off his leggings, rolling them down his long legs and drawing them from his feet with economical movements that had Gimli almost drooling. Legolas laughed at this proof of desire, and let the leggings fall on top of his tunic.

At last, he was free to watch Gimli, sat crosslegged on the bed in fascination and lust as the dwarf revealed his body to Legolas' hungry eyes. So hard, so strong. Legolas felt he might drool himself. For all that he was immortal and Gimli wasn't, Legolas thought that Gimli looked immortal. He looked invincible and impervious to harm. There was no long boned fragility about him. He seemed built to last the ages. Unbreakable. Such a thing as Gimli could never fall to ruin. And with that it occurred to him how silly the vision was. He giggled.

“Well! If that's how you're going to react, I shouldn't have bothered!” Gimli teased, putting on an affronted demeanour as he picked up Legolas' clothes from the bed.

“No,” Legolas said, feeling an instant of guilt before Gimli winked at him. Legolas smiled, unfolding his legs to stretch them out before him. “I was just thinking how impossible it would be to ever break you, the way the wraith said I would. The pride and nobility of your race is built into your very bones. It is a ridiculous thing that was shown to me. You would never even bend before such evil.”

As he spoke, Gimli seemed to swell with pride, his posture straightening so that Legolas drew in a breath in awe, watching him as he walked around to the head of the bed.

“Give me your hand,” he said, reaching out. “Either will do.”

Legolas immediately stretched out his right hand to Gimli, full of trust, but he didn't realise even then what was afoot until Gimli began to secure his wrist to the right corner of the bed, using his own discarded leggings to do it. When he did, he felt a strange jolt of pleasure and fear in his stomach that made him gulp. He had told Gimli to do it, after all, so he said nothing, but wordlessly offered his other wrist when Gimli had finished, allowing himself to be thus restrained.

“Will you place the other wire now?” Legolas asked, nervous though he refused to show it, turning his head deliberately to offer his ear with the half-finished mithril piercing.

“Yes, Legolas, I will do it now,” Gimli replied quietly, as if soothing him. Legolas pulled at the bindings, finding them quite restrictive indeed. “Do not be afraid, elf.”

“How did you know I was afraid?”

Gimli climbed onto the bed, and then over him, mithril wire and velvet pouch of beads in hand. Gimli's nakedness was all Legolas could think about, his hot skin, his crisp body hair.

“You've been trembling since I tied your hands,” Gimli told him, his voice was once again the deep rumble it had been before. It made Legolas feel like melting into the bed, for he could hear the purpose in it, could hear Gimli's desire.

“I didn't mean to,” Legolas said, as the dwarf's legs wrapped around his thighs to keep him still again, his forearm pressed again at the side of his head. He hadn't known that he was doing it, but he could feel it now, his muscles shaking as he waited for Gimli to touch his ear again, knowing that he would.

“This one will be harder to take. I'll be touching the one I placed earlier as I work,” Gimli explained. Legolas tried to nod, but he could not. His breath was so fast, puffing out against the pillow under his mouth.

As if to test him, the dwarf ran a finger over the first wire, moving down from the tip of Legolas' ear to the lobe slowly, hardly any pressure at all. Legolas felt that touch right down to his bones, a deep tingling sensation that made him whimper. All he could think of was –

“Gimli,” he said, made helpless by more than the bonds on his wrists or the way the dwarf held him still.

“I am here, Legolas. It will be soon done,” he said, and his thumb and forefinger closed over Legolas' earlobe gently, causing a quiet whimper of arousal and anticipatory fear to escape him. Then the point of the second wire was pressing, sharp and unforgiving, passing through him. Legolas couldn't help it: he wailed.

Gimli was silent now, working carefully and quickly. Legolas felt a small bead threaded on the wire. It felt heavier, if only slightly, and all the mithril seemed to jiggle at the same time. His face became flushed and hot. This second one _was_ much harder to take. Now Gimli was moving it around, coiling it around to make the next hole in him. Legolas trembled uncontrollably.

“Please,” he begged, but the dwarf was merciless, pushing the point through him again, unknowingly twining the wire and himself around Legolas' heart and soul forever, so that Legolas would never forget. Legolas almost cried.

Even though Gimli worked fast, even adding each of the little beads as he went, to Legolas it felt like an eternity. He did not mind the pain, it kept him from finding release, and he remembered Gimli's promise over everything. It was impossible to forget! But the pleasure mixed with it was sharp and unrelenting, so that by the time it came to closing the hinge, Legolas was almost out of his mind with lust. Begging, pleading, promising anything if only Gimli would touch him.

As it snapped shut, Legolas felt he had been claimed, and he knew he would never willingly remove the adornment, though centuries may pass and the dwarf may perish. As long as he lived he would be defined by this moment. But it was not as cold as the vision. He felt great love, honour and fidelity. He wondered if Gimli would ever understand.

Gently letting his head free to move, Gimli also released Legolas' body from the restriction, though his hands remained bound to the corners of the bed. His heavy, warm hands swept down Legolas' body, over his chest and his stomach, awakening every inch of his skin so that he shivered.

“I will not last!” he warned, feverish, as Gimli's hands neared their goal.

“I know. It is all right, elf. I understand.” He stopped short of touching though, and waited for a moment, moving down so that his mouth was poised to close over Legolas' erection. Legolas raised his head to look, and then could not, falling back onto the cushions with a thud that made the jewellery vibrate in his ear. He whimpered.

“Don't you know I would not deny you pleasure, Legolas?” Gimli asked, and then sealed his lips around Legolas' cock, sucking lightly.

With a feral cry, Legolas arched up, his cock pressing deep into the dwarf's mouth, but Gimli took it. Then, after a half moment, Gimli drew back, lips pulling on the skin, dragging so that Legolas inhaled, deep and sudden. Then back in again.

“Ai!” Legolas cried, feeling his eyes close and his lips compress as his body jerked upwards again, his cock deep in Gimli's mouth and throat, the muscles there tight like the dwarf's hand around him. So perfect. One more of the back and forth movements, and Legolas felt that same relentless rushing forward, as if he wanted to claim all of Gimli for his own. Just as Gimli had done with the mithril piercing.

To come in the wet clinging heat of Gimli's mouth was a new pleasure, and Legolas moaned as the dwarf swallowed his essence, licking it from his softening cock gently. He was so considerate. Legolas' heart felt like it must burst from his chest.

 

To be continued...

 

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading – I hope you had fun! If you did please leave a comment. Read the real story [Nothing Gold Can Stay](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5791561/chapters/13468732) by [TAFKAB](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/pseuds/TAFKAB). It's amazing!

 **Author's Note:** I have deleted all of my work from Ao3 in protest at their non-existent abuse policy, which means that victims of trolls are held equally responsible for the attacks they receive. Yes, you read that right. This part-finished work remains in situ since it was written as a gift for TAFKAB. For more of the author's work, please see: http://members.adult-fanfiction.org/profile.php?no=1296767214&view=story

Thank you.


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